About Me

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

first of all - need i say it - this can't be politically correct. we desperately wish to save the world from pollution, the underclass, volcanoes, economic collapse. yes, indeed, we hope to save the earth from everything except ourselves.

the conservative wishes to feather his/her nest, as does the liberal, the radical and everything in between.

take the first. everything is about me me me. my bank-account, my home in a gated community, my children and their private schools. dare i venture: this breed has no social conscience and must be forced by circumstances to be mildly generous when the mob refuses to let them eat cake.

ah, but does this really differ from the liberal? as long as i'm comfortable, i'll take part in parades, support good causes, walk the talk, and so on. unfortunately, these too wish to make the world safe for themselves.

and the radicals! power, power, power. every theory a grab for it. one friend recently called himself an agrarian revolutionist. well, we know what that led to in cambodia. pol pot forced everyone back into the jungle, deserting the cities and giving young boys machine guns to create the killing fields. my friend, he too benefits from the present state of affairs, and digging in the dirt the last thing he'd ever want to d0, being a truly civilized creature.

who's left? the spiritual, certainly. abandon ambition, live in the present, the universe is perfect as it is, one huge ashram. so many rules, the way to eat, sleep, and have sex without enjoying it. they can't escape ambition, the desire to recreate social life in their own image.

uh, maybe the messiah complex we can't elude, deluding ourselves into thinking we might. however, one thing we can all do is pick up garbage and paint out graffiti. kathmandu drove me crazy (so much for the sacred east). trash lay in the street in front of every home and business. in ten minutes they could have cleaned it up. and the human poop above the burning ghats sending bodies on their smoky way to the next life, how could they not smell it?

or take europe and graffiti. returning in the nineties after the fifties and sixties. i simply couldn't stomach the desecration everywhere. so much for the home of sacred beauty. this tortured public art sets my teeth on edge.

so, you can save the earth except from yourself. get out the plastic bags and the paint brushes. eternity begins at home.